Rotten
by Uminoruka
Summary: James' body was never found in the ashes of his home. Harry never thought he could become anymore devastated than he was the beginning of his fourth year. With the world going against both of the Potters, how will they survive finding each other, when they can barely stand everyday life. Depressed!James MentallyUnstable!Depressed!Harry -T for dark themes. PowerAbusive!Dumbledore
1. Chapter 1

Rotten

Summary: James' body was never found in the ashes of the Potter's home. Harry never thought he could become anymore devastated than after he saw Cedric die. Voldemort reins. 4th year.

Chapter 1:

"You need a new name… a code, to address you by." A cool voice hissed out. I looked up and saw the man, or what was left of him, that I was suppose to dedicate my life to. His face was sunken and pale, and his skin was shriveled like an apple that had been left out for too long. This man was Voldemort. I was on my knee, the hard pavement scratching my skin. I darted my head back down to his feet, attempting to look submissive. Another hiss came from his mouth.  
"Your name… it shall be Atlas."

Like the muggle directory? Atlas is so… bland, and odd at the same time. I didn't dare voice my opinion though.

"My revival is only days away. Do NOT fail me." And then he fell into a coughing fit. The snake must have talked more than his frail little throat could handle. He waved his hand toward the door, dismissing me. I knew he didn't want to show this vulnerability. Intimidation was what, and still, keeps me here; he didn't want to loose his advantage. I pulled myself up and started to open the giant wooden doors that lead to the dark lords throne room.

A quiet whisper. I can barely hear it. "Meet me in Pettigrew's chamber later James, or rather, Atlas." And then the hacking commenced.

-POV SWITCH-

James didn't intend for it to turn out this way.

He didn't.

He had a plan.

It just toppled over into a mass of catastrophic doom.

The night that Voldemort broke into the Potter household 13 years ago was a horrific and significant day for James. It was his breaking point. Now when he closes his eyes, he can't help but imagine his dead wife, and wonder if it was all worth it.

When Voldemort ripped through the wards that Albus Dumbledore put up, James was the first to approach the man. He courageously darted headfirst into a battle between good and evil.

He lost…

But he was given an option.

"_Join me, and you will be spared. You will be under my protection with only one price… loyalty."_

And having a dark lord pointing his wand at your neck telling you to join him is one of the most pressuring, yet convincing situations.

The deal was accepted.

Not 5 minutes later his house was on fire, his wife was dead, and his new master had disappeared. So James fled to the deepest parts of London, hidden in cloaks and notice-me-not charms.


	2. Chapter 2

Rotten: Chapter 2

James couldn't hide in the undergrounds of England forever. He realized that. There were too many witches and wizards that would recognize his face and turn him over to the Ministry of Magic for a couple galleons. Nobody was to be trusted. So he relocated every once in a while.

1 year in London. 3 years in Surrey. 4 years in Wilshire. 1 year in Albania.

Hiding in the depths of Albania was his worst mistake ever. Voldemort was spotted around his location just months after he had moved there. Albania was a fairly large area. There was no way one body-less snake heir would find him in all of the towns and villages there, right?

But Voldemort had gained a body, as he shared one with a new recruit, Quirinus Quirell. Through the experience of being caught and bonded to Voldemort through the dark mark, James learned two things -

Always take extra precautions.

Never underestimate a dark lord.

From there, he worked his way up. Better being a highly valued Death Eater than a lower leveled dog. The higher ranked he was, the less likely he was going to be killed offhandedly in a fit of rage.

Though James did love power, that wasn't his goal. His goal was plainly to survive.

When he found Peter within the ranks of the Death Eaters, he wanted to wrap his arms around the pudgy rat's scruff, and leave them there until the traitor suffocated to death. If Peter hadn't betrayed his family, he wouldn't have been stuck in this mess of light and dark.

In his second year of service to his lord, James had to work with Pettigrew much more than wanted. Being in the presence of the thieving mass of fat made him realize that he was a hypocrite. James was a traitor. But James had one point that brought him above Peter in all forms of dignity.

He _regret._

While Peter bragged about how much his work benefited their lord, James had stayed silent, hating himself for every deed committed. While Peter tortured and maimed muggles left and right, James only did the bare minimum to please Voldemort.

But After years of re-education, James had left and Atlas had been his replacement. The dark magic made his hope fade into the shadows. It was still there, but hidden from the trained eye.

After Atlas had been born, a new mask had been placed upon his head, and to be truthful, it was so brightly colored crimson that it stuck out like a soar thumb. It was a mask, as Voldemort described, which represented that James had become his "dog". James understood the code underlining the man's cool hiss though. _He could never leave. He could never regain his honor._

James hated his mask.

-POV SWAP-

Harry hated his birthday. After all, he had a perfectly good reason to.

A birthday celebrated one's _existence._ It celebrated that you came into the world, and that you came for a reason. Nobody had told him Happy Birthday personally since Hagrid saved him from his abusive, greedy relatives. Sure, Hermione and Ron sent him letters and a few small gifts, but it just wasn't the same. It felt as if his existence was pushed aside by his best mates.

And that _hurt._

Spending the day with his relatives was enough to make him want to jump out of the barred windows in his small room and be done with it all.

FREAK  
And the wizarding world, all THEY cared about was "The-boy-who-lived". They didn't care about the small insecure boy who lived in a cupboard.

He was never _just Harry._

His existence wasn't important.

Nobody cared about the freak.

Only the defeater of Voldemort.

Harry curled up in a ball and sobbed all night.

14 years of pain had passed by.

-POV SWITCH-

Their Harry had been born today. James vaguely remembered holding Lily's hand as the fiery tried to push out their child. He remembered his fingers being crushed as Lily clutched his fingers like her life depended on it. He remembered the loud cussing as Lily screamed that the pain was all _his _fault for one reason or another. And then he remembered the melancholy silence as the child was finally in their arms. The small sound of gurgles made when the child took his first breath brought tears to his eyes.

He had a pensive with that memory in it. Every time he was angry or upset he went into that pensive. There were so many memories in there that he wished he didn't remember.

Memories of betraying his family and friends.

Memories of taking the dark art.

Memories of killing muggles on demand.

Memories of being labeled as a loyal dog.

After carrying out a deed for his master, James made a point to put the memory in the bowl, and watch it over and over.

And over.

And over.

He made sure that he drowned himself in regret, but he had gone to far to turn back now.

-POV SWITCH-

When Harry boarded the Hogwarts express, the last person he wanted to see was Draco Malfoy.  
_"Ello' Potter." _Said the blonde as he swaggered into the small compartment, a smirk on his face.

Harry glared at the intruder. He wasn't in any mood to be around the blonde annoyance. He never was in the mood.

"Malfoy. Out. Now." He said in a demanding, but pathetic tone. It was as if he was on the verge of tears, and didn't want anyone to see them.

"What's wrong with you Potty? Didn't get the new muggle game you wanted for your birthday last week?"

"No Malfoy, I didn't."

"Ha! Knew it! I bet you are just as spoiled as Snape said your father was. He told me your father was so pampered; he couldn't tie his own shoes when he started Hogwarts because his house elves just did it for him. So what disappointing gift did you get?"

Harry opened his mouth to retaliate.

"I… I … well … didn't get anything." He muttered. Draco laughed cruelly.

"Nobody cares about the poor lil' boy-who-lived?" He snickered.

"So WHAT!," Harry snapped. "At least I'm not an arrogant git who can't put up a decent fight without two buffoons around! Where are they now? Beating up a new first year muggleborn?"

Draco was angry. Very angry. NOBODY insulted Draco Malfoy and got away with it.

**SMACK**

Harry was on the ground, clutching his cheek. The tears that were threatening to fall from his eyes clouded his vision. He whimpered as a bruise started to form.

A voice was heard outside of the stall.

"_Harry! Mate, where are you!"_ It was Ron. He was bustling through the train, opening compartment after compartment, looking for his friend. Harry shoved Malfoy out of the room, locked the door, and shut the blinds on the door's window. He crumpled on the bench next to his trunk, ready to just give up moving, and lie there forever.

Harry Potter fell asleep, holding his face as tears fell from his eyes.

_Nobody was ever there to protect him. _

He was alone.


End file.
